


Storybrooke's Best Kept Secret

by Eilinelithil



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - In Storybrooke | Cursed (Once Upon a Time), Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Past Abuse, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:35:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25130245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eilinelithil/pseuds/Eilinelithil
Summary: Ruby has a secret, even though she doesn't know she does, until one day she bumps into the one man who can carry the secret out of the cottage in the woods - though not literally. Now that he know the secret, however, what will Jefferson /do/ with it, and what would it mean for Storybrooke if he were to tell Gold? Is Gold even awake... And what might happen if the Dark One discovered the truth?
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Comments: 12
Kudos: 17





	Storybrooke's Best Kept Secret

Roses.

They hadn’t been his thing in tens of tens of years. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d admired them, tended them… gifted a rose to a rare beauty among beauties.

_Lies_.

The thought were all lies meant as an analgesic for his pain, the hurt in his heart… the love, the self betrayal, and the tragedy he’d caused. _He’d_ caused - of that he had no doubt. He should never have turned her away; should have kept her close. She’d have been safe then. They’d have been together, he would have made sure of it.

She would have lived.

Gold _hated_ roses.

* * *

“Seriously,” Ruby said as she sat back on the cream colored couch, sipping tea from the cup before setting it back down on the saucer. “You should come. It’ll only be a few people, and they’re good people, I promise.”

She watched as Belle shook her head. “It’s kind of you to offer,” Belle said softly, “but you know I can’t. I can’t be _around_ people. More than one… maybe two at a time and I—”

“I know,” Ruby reached over and covered Belle’s hand - where she gripped the armrest of her chair - with her own and sighed sadly as Belle flinched. Even after _years_ of their friendship, still the other woman flinched when she touched her. Whatever had she _been_ through before she arrived in Storybrooke? “But you shouldn’t be sitting here alone, day in, day out, with nothing but… books for company.”

“I have my garden,” Belle argued softly, “And I’m not alone.”

“Oh, right,” she scoffed, “Because Raguel there is the perfect conversationalist.”

She looked over at the large, white cat that lay draped across the back of Belle’s arm chair, its head turned to look at her over Belle’s shoulder as if it - he, she corrected herself - could, indeed at least _follow_ the conversation. Belle had kept the cat for a long as Ruby could remember coming to see her. She said she’d found it in a box on her doorstep one morning as a kitten and had no clue who had left him there, but she’d brought him in, and cared for him none-the-less.

“No offense, Raq,” she added quickly, and the cat blinked a long, slow blink, and Ruby swore she saw a feline, ‘none taken’ in his gaze.

“The Sisters insist having him around is _good_ for me,” Belle answered, quietly. “And… and Doctor Hopper feels the same way.”

Ruby frowned a little at the mention of Archie, thinking it quite possible that - besides whichever of the Sisters it was visited her - he was the only other person that ever came to visit Belle in her tiny little cottage on the very, _very_ edge of the town; hidden away.

“I didn’t say he _wasn’t_ ,” Ruby said finally, “Just that I think you ought to have more _human_ company, that’s all.”

“I have _you_ ,” Belle said, “And Doctor Hopper, and the Sisters. I don’t _need_ anyone else.”

* * *

It was a lie, and Belle knew it as she leaned on the door after closing it behind Ruby, but she also couldn’t deny her fears; her nightmares, reliving the abuse at the hands of the cult she’d escaped thanks to the mayor. Not that Regina ever visited, nor had anyone other than Archie told her that it had been Mayor Mills that was responsible for her salvation, just… it had to be true. She _remembered_ it.

She felt unsettled; needed to calm herself. She picked up her gloves and headed out to the garden. Pulling weeds, and tending the flower beds would help her to feel better, and would give her a reason not to go to Ruby’s little soiree. 

_Excuses_.

Of course getting lost in gardening was an excuse, an avoidance of people - after all of her memories of the taunting, the chanting, the hands all over her urging her to confess, repent… forget. Forget what? Perhaps she _should_ have cast herself from the bell tower that night.

She wouldn’t have to be lonely.

Belle _hated_ people.

* * *

“Oh, my God!” Ruby yelped in surprise as she walked into the solid shape, which _shouldn’t_ have been a surprise since she was still looking back over her shoulder in the direction of Belle’s cottage. “I am _so_ sorry.”

She finally turned to the man she’d walked into. Tall, dark and _broodingly_ handsome, she looked him up and down taking in the long dark overcoat, the tight pants, brocade shirt and vest with the purple scarf he wore tied like a cravat around his neck standing out like a beacon to draw her upward to look at his face. She would normally have found a man like him to be attractive, even compelling, but something about him screamed caution.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, his voice deep and smooth. “Don’t think I’ve seen you this far out of town before… Ruby isn’t it?”

“You… have the advantage,” she said with a breath, feeling somehow almost offended.

“Jefferson,” he said. “My name’s Jefferson.” He tipped his head then, and added, “So what is it brings you out so far?”

“I’m…” the words, ‘visiting my friend’ were right there on the tip of her tongue, but even as she meant to speak them they began to elude her, as though she couldn’t quite remember why she _was_ out here… on the edge of Storybrooke, by the lane that led to… where exactly? “visiting,” she said vaguely, “a… friend - I… think.”

She looked back over her shoulder again, back the way she’d come. She saw the end of the dirt track that led into the trees, but she couldn’t quite bring to mind where it led.

“A friend, you say?” Jefferson drew her attention back to him. “You don’t seem so sure about that. If you’ve been up to something out there in the woods, I’d say you’re going to have to be more convincing than that to get it past your grandmother.”

She frowned in suspicion at that. “What do _you_ know about my grandmother,” she demanding, wrapping her arms around herself uncomfortably. “I don’t recall seeing you around town, and certainly not in the diner.” Then added for good measure, “and what are _you_ doing out here anyway.”

* * *

“I live out here,” he said absently, glancing away from Ruby to the track she’d just left. “And I know most things about this town. It’s what I do,” he told her, growing even more absent as he began to move past her, toward the track as he murmured, “but I don’t know about this…”

“Wait,” she said, and then he heard her hurried footsteps as she tried to catch up to him, even as he lengthened his stride. “You can’t go that way!”

“Why not?” he called back over his shoulder. “What have you got to hide?”

“I’m not…” Ruby began, then stopped and started again, “I don’t…”

Jefferson stopped, and turned to her with a frown as he caught her by the arms. “You really don’t know, do you?” he asked, surprised, and yet again not at all surprised - this was Storybrooke after all - and she shook her head.

He considered for a moment, trying to decide whether to tell her to go home, or to bring her with him. He had a growing  
suspicion that this was something that had been written into the curse, the way his own situation had been constructed, which meant that whatever - whoever - was at the end of that track, it was Regina’s doing. As such he decided that giving Ruby a modicum of free will was only fair.

“I’m going to follow this track,” he told her. “Either you can come with me, or go home. It’s your choice, but I’m going.”


End file.
